4 Itchy Tasty
by Ralphie2
Summary: The documentation of a mans transformation from Human to Tyrant.Warning: Extremely graphic material. Due to the core subject matter and my own gross imagination, may not be for readers with weak stomachs.
1. Chapter 1

_**4 Itchy Tasty **_

by: Ralphie2

The mall always got crowded this time of year. People almost had to claw their way through the mass of christmas shoppers. Each was holding a bag or box of some sort. Colourful wrapping paper was everywhere and a sickly sweet holiday tune blasted over the speakers. Small Kiosks had set themselves up in the halls. They peddlers running them all tried to grab the shoppers and get them to spend some cash on their wares. The actual stores were open and each one was filled with people looking for that perfect little something. Security guards vainly attempted to keep up with the number of shoplifters and robbers in the mass crowd.

Jordan really was sick of the whole thing.

He had a bag from EBgames resting in his hand as he tried to get back to the front door. All he needed was to get back home. He had spent most of his day up on his feet. He had gone to his day job at Musicworld, after his shift, he had made his way to EBgames to get his brother a gift. Now he tried to get to the parking lot and out of this over commercialized breeding ground. Finally the exit sign came into view. His resolve strengthened and he pushed his way through the bodies. After a few seconds, he found himself in the open air. The cool winter air struck him. There was no need for a jacket though. A chinook had warmed the whole place up in a couple of days. The temperature had gone from -20 to 0 celsius in 30 some hours.

He stepped onto the pavement and felt the sun lightly touch his back. This was the kind of day he lived for. He started to walk out into the crowded lot. He didn't have a car here. His cheapo 93' sedan was back at home. He may have been strange, but he wasn't crazy. As he watched the other cars slowly follow the crowds of people in the hopes of getting a space. Walking today would probably do him good, and he didn't need to deal with traffic.

He came up to the crosswalk and pressed the button waiting for the light to change. On the other side, a group of teenagers joked and talked with each other. In the nearby park an obviously drunken man sat on the bench trying to look sober.

"It's only noon." Jordan said as he watched in distaste as the inebriated fellow acted for the cop. The boy in blue didn't even bother listening to his story. He picked up the man and began to secort him to the nearby police station. As he watched this, he failed to notice as the light changed. Running to catch up, he swerved around the teens. It was too late when he noticed a foot sticking directly in his path. He hit the foot with a great deal of speed. Within seconds he lay on the ground near a sewer well. He heard snickering and footsteps as the group ran off into a bookstore for cover.

Picking himself off and dusting himself off, he resumed his journey home.

An hour later he pulled the keys out of his pocket and opened his front door. Inside he found the kitchen. Throwing his bag onto the counter he walked over to his couch and slumped down into it. He had been walking constantly for about three hours now. Just to get off his feet was heaven. He just sat there for a little while and stared at the ceiling. He really needed to fix that crack sometime.

After laying there for a few minutes, Jordan got up to check his messages. Nothing. No surprises there. As for his computer, it was still on and the backup he had started was now finished. Good. When that much Porn was at stake, one couldn't take chances. After starting the reboot process, Jordan went to make himself some lunch. All the food in the malls food court had seemed kinda nasty.

He got out a package of Ich-I-Ban. Not a whole lot healthily than what was at the mall, but students couldn't be choosey. He grabbed the only pot he owned and walked over to the sink. Creaking, the handles turned unleashing a stream of water. It poured into the pot for a moment before sputtering a bit. It sputtered thrice and then stopped all together.

"Goddamn pipes" Jordan cursed under his breath. Placing the pot on the counter and turning off the handle, he kneeled and opened the panel which held the pipes for his sinkwater. He picked up the wrench and hit the first copper pipe in view. It shook ferociously and a crumpling sound escaped. There must have been something stuck inside. Well now it seemed it was out. Standing back up, he turned the handle. Still no water. A bang erupted from beneath and a mass of discoloured water sprayed up at him. It was sewage water!

A gag nearly brought on a vomiting spree but Jordan controlled it and reached for the handle. The spraying stopped. He stood in his now shit-water filled kitchen. There was no way he was going to eat his noodles now. He changed his clothes and grabbed his keys. Traffic or not, he was hungry.

Arriving back home, he placed his KFC on the couch and tried vainly not to notice the sick smell of the now disgusting floors and walls of his kitchen. He decided to eat downstairs of the stink. It helped.

He grabbed the remote with greasy fingers and started looking for a movie or something to take his mind of things. He surfed through the christmas special crap and found something good. He sat back with his 12-bucket and let Terminator 2 take him away.

Jordan sat up in bed. He looked to the clock. 3 am. He hadn't been able to sleep at all. First it had been his mind keeping him awake, now it was his stomach. It was pounding and hurting like hell. It kept on turning over itself and flopping back down again. Then recently his head had joined in on the fun. He sat there in an orgy of pain and sick bile flavour in his throat. Looking over to the mirror he saw his shadowy figure hunched over and shaking violently.

During the day he had felt fine! He had walked for christs sake! Now he felt like he was going to explode any minute! His heart crushed itself and a burst of pain erupted through his chest!

Clenching his lip, Jordan climbed off the bed to get some more tylenol. Much more of this and he might even head over to the ER. As he opened his door, the stench of his uncleaned kitchen hit him square on. His throat squealed and the contents of his stomach flopped. Abandoning the tylenol, he ran instead to the bathroom.

Falling to his knees, he hit the ground the second his churned insides began to fling themselves into the bowl of the toilet. Trying not to notice his horrific pain and taste, he rushed his mind over things he would rather be doing right then. It didn't work. By that point he had slowed to dry heaving. Trying desperatley to breath, he sat up on the bathtub ring. Clutching his chest, he inhaled haphazardly and felt more meal find it's way into his esophagus. He felt it fight the oppsite-directing muscles. And soon he was on his knees clutching the rim. Even as it flung out of his mouth, he tasted it. Something sickly sweet and acidid. The thought of him tasting his own vomit struck him, if he wasn't already, he would've gagged on it.

After finally calming himself, he stood up and let his breath regulate. He went to flush the toilet and decided against it. As gross as it was to leave stomach matter in his shitter for morning, but it was more appetizing than cleaning up another sewage water mess right now.

He noticed that his stomach wasn't bothering him anymore. His head had given it a rest as well. After grabbing a jug of milk to clean the taste of bile in his mouth, he went back to bed and attempted again to sleep. This time sleep came easier and he was able to forget the day for a few hours.


	2. Chapter 2

Jordan awoke suddenly to the incesent beeping of the alarm clock. Turning over he checked the time. 6:45, goddamn. He sat up on his bed and yawned. He went through is scheduel mentally, making sure to leave time for kitchen cleaning.

He yawned again and instinctively reached to scratch his stomach. As his nails hit the skin large chunks of skin fell off. Suddenly awake and very aware, he looked down. His entire body was red and he could see the places where he had just scratched. Massive, deep fingernail marks crossed his stomach from right to left. He stood up and turned to his mirror. He was sure he could see right through his skin! Arteries pumped and he could watch the blood flow from his heart.

His Heart! It was in the right place but it didn't seem to have any structure at all. Just a mass beating blob in his chest! It was now easily the size of his head. As he looked at himself a cold chill ran through his back. He still had form, but due to his skin tone, he looked more like a recently born rat.

Looking at himself with morbid curiosity, he saw all of his organs function. He realized again that he was standing. Sitting down immediately, he felt skin chunks slip off his legs as they rubbed the bed.

After calming down he stood up again and carefully made his way to the bathroom. As soon as he opened the door, he was hit square with the scent of bile and digestion. Staggering back, he felt his legs rub against one another. He could almost hear his flesh hit the floor. All these factors smashed together to make him sick to his stomach, yet hesitant to do anything for fear of loosing more flesh.

He stood there a quivering mass, to an observer he would have looked almost satanic in his condition. He was still only dressed in a pair of boxers, and his figure was much smaller due to the massive skin loss. HIs red hue made him seem all the more sickly and evil.

Breathing heavily, Jordan tried to walk away from the bathroom without scraping his legs or arms too much. He made his way to the living area. The bag of presents still sat on his couch. Moving over, he picked it up and put it down on the ground. He laid down on the couch and closed his eyes momentarily. If he couldn't see himself, maybe he would be able to think clearly.

He looked over his situation. He needed medical attention soon. He lived halfway across the city from the hospital. He could call for an ambulance. Possibly even try to order a house call. He would reach for the nearby phone at the end of the couch. He would call someone and open the door.

He breathed again, then opened his eyes. His house was the same as he had left it. Slowly, cautiously, he sat up and reached for the phone. Picking it up, he turned it on and began to dial 911.

He lifted the receiver up to his ear. No noise, not even a dial tone met his expectations. He put it down and picked it up again. Once again no sound came through. He checked the wall. The phone was plugged in. He turned to his TV and fiddled for the remote completely forgetting the skin flaking off his arm. Picking up the small device, he pressed the power button. The box buzzed and a "emergency broadcast system " message counting down the minutes until another program would run.

2:34 minutes. He would wait for that long to see it. If some sort of terrible disaster had hit the town, he wouldn't be able to get to a doctor. If this continued, who knows how long until he hit a vessel or other important function. Even just a puncture at a vessel would probably drain him of blood.

A beep came over the television. To show that the program was about to run. He propped himself up in the chair ready to hear whatever it was they had to tell him.

The screen buzzed for a moment and a camera cut to a man in a chopper above the city. He looked at the camera in his seat. Jordan recognized the man from the local news, whats his name.

"This is the emergency broadcast system. If you are in your home, stay there and we will tell you what to do." Jordan listened intently, unintentionally leaning forward in his chair.

"A virus has hit the sewers of Lethbridge. As of yet, we are unsure of it's symptoms, or as to how it entered the sewer system. Be cautious to use any source of domestic water. Crews have begun to introduce a neautralizing chemical to clean out the virus. At the moment we are unsure of their success. We'll keep you up to date with hourly updates. At this time the only advice we have is to stay in your homes and try to avoid using any water at all. Our time is up. We'll be back in one hour"

Jordan's mouth had been open in disbelief for most of the program. A virus in the sewer system, that meant he could,. no did, get it from the pipe! This is what it was. He could only guess how many people had caught the virus.

This was nothing like he knew of though. Even the most powerful necrotizing fascitis took at least a day to reach his state. And how was he still able to move with his skin coming off so quickly? Theoretically he should have fallen apart hours ago. Afraid of moving he just continued to wait there for the next broadcast.

58 minutes. Not like he could do much else.


End file.
